


The End of the Line

by lost_in_dark_places



Series: The Asset, his Mission [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky and Peggy are the loves of Steve's life, But he doesn't know how, Canon Tragedy and Angst, Demisexual Steve Rogers, Depressed Steve Rogers, Internalized Homophobia (past), Multi, Steve Feels, Steve wants to help Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:53:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_dark_places/pseuds/lost_in_dark_places
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time Steve thinks he has a handle on life, things tilt wildly out of control. Really, things shouldn't be this complicated.</p><p>Chronologically, ends shortly before "Field Assignment"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All disclaimers apply, I'm just having fun here. (for definitions of "fun" that include ugly sobbing)
> 
> Trigger Warning:  
> Steve's Depression and Suicidal Ideation. It's present throughout, and he still hasn't got help for it by the end.

You’d think after a while, after your world flips upside down on you enough times, that eventually you would adapt. You would learn to except the change. At some point the world would stop ripping your heart out because, if for no other reason, your heart was already ripped out.

You start to think, maybe, someday, you’ll be numb.

But life keeps finding new ways to hurt you.

And then every so often it goes back to the old standbys.

The assassin is good. Inhumanly good. Good like you are.

And somehow familiar. No. You’ve done this before. No.

Then the mask comes off.

Everything becomes clear.

Everything.

Because he looks right at you, and he doesn’t know you.

But you know him.

* * *

The thing that you could never tell anyone before, the thing you still haven’t told anyone, is that you kissed Bucky once.

You were kids, drunk on moonshine Bucky got from somewhere. You hadn’t meant to do it. But Bucky was tellin’ one of his tales, and he just looked so happy and. . . and beautiful. So You kissed him. And for about three seconds you were in heaven.

Then Bucky pushed you away and ran.

And that should have been it.

But then a week later Bucky comes back.

And he says that _he_ was sorry. He just couldn’t do it. He tried, but he just really doesn’t feel that way about fellas. He understands that you won’t want to be friends with him anymore, and that’s okay. He just wants you to know he tried.

And you don’t know what to say. Because Bucky’s acting like he’s the one who’s sick, who’s defective, who’s ruined everything.

But you know what you don’t want, and you don’t want to lose Bucky. So you tell him that. “I don’t care about that, I don’t want you to go.”

And Bucky says, “Well, then I’ll stay.”

And you won’t talk about it again for years.

But you both think about it. You with this horrible guilt. Bucky with a kind of wistfulness.

* * *

Steve wakes up in the hospital (again), and a friend is by his side (again), but it’s the wrong friend. Nothing against Sam but. . . .Steve had hope.

(Steve wishes he could stop having hope. Hope is a trap.)

Then Steve realizes He must have pulled you out—that-the man with Bucky’s face. The man who might actually be Bucky somewhere underneath.

And he can’t help it. He hopes.

* * *

The thing is you always knew you were gonna die. The Sky was blue, water was wet, and Steve Rogers was gonna die, sooner rather than later.

Because you always knew you were going to die, you never really thought you’d get a chance to lose someone. Maybe that’s why Ma hit you so hard. It was just, _No, Damnit, it was supposed to be me._

And you could have, you wanted to go it alone, ‘cause if this is what Death felt like from the outside, you didn’t want to do that to anyone else. And you were gonna.

But Bucky wouldn’t have it. You didn’t understand it, because Bucky didn’t even. . . .Why would he stick around for a sad defective little shit like you? Why would he set himself up to hurt like that?

But Bucky wouldn’t push off. “I’m with ya to the end of the line, Pal.” he said.

* * *

Steve digs in. He isn’t going to stop looking until he finds (what’s left of) Bucky.

He tears the world apart.

But Steve doesn’t find Bucky, Bucky finds Steve.

(Bucky always finds Steve. It was only that one time Steve found him, a fluke.)

Sometimes he’ll fade out of the crowd and say something like, “Have you been eating, Stevie? You know how Ma worries.”

Sometimes Bucky tackles Steve, and Steve doesn’t even know if Bucky’s flashing back to the war and trying to save him, or if Bucky’s lost in the other thing and trying to kill him.

Steve tries to make himself available to Bucky anyway. When Bucky is rational, when he knows Steve, Steve tries to talk him in from the cold. But that usually triggers the other thing, and then if Steve’s lucky Bucky leaves without trying to kill him.

* * *

When Bucky enlists, you kinda feel like it puts the lie to his _to the end of the line_ shit. Because now Bucky’s leaving, he’s going to war, and he’s gonna die alone in a ditch. You are going to die alone of fucking pneumonia or something, probably in your own ditch, but on the wrong side of the ocean.

(Bucky never tells you that he didn’t enlist, it was the fucking draft. He thought long and hard about running with you, but knew you could never survive that, so he trotted out a lie that he hoped would be comforting. Someday, he’ll learn that all the Commandos records were changed so no one would know most of them were draftees, ‘cause that was shitty for propaganda, and it would make him so angry even though he told the lie first.)

You always knew you were going to die. That’s why you waded into every fight without a care, why you always stood up for what was right even when the odds were awful, why you never pulled your punches ever.

You knew you were gonna die and you wanted it to _mean something_ : you didn’t want to be just another sickly runt, better off really, now that you’re dead.

And you want to die with Bucky, damn it, that’s what you were promised.

* * *

Steve finally admits he need help. Help beyond what Sam can give. He reaches out to Nat and Clint, Tony and Bruce. He’d reach out to Thor too, if he could get a hold of him.

But it turns out that Tony is all he needs because Tony has clued into the remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D., and S.H.I.E.L.D. is run by Coulson now (because apparently he’s not dead either) and Coulson is almost as determined as Steve is to bring Bucky home.

So, they make plans, and Steve is perfectly willing to sell his soul to S.H.I.E.L.D again if that’s what it takes. (It never actually goes that far though, and Steve finds that he trusts Coulson even more than Nick.)

And, eventually, together, they bring Bucky in.

* * *

You feel just a little bit guilty when you agree to Project Rebirth, because you know you’re not the man they’re looking for.

Erskine is looking for a brave man, a good man.

You are a little pervert, who just stopped caring if you die.

You aren’t sure what Peggy is looking for, but you’re sure it’s not you. (you’re surprised at how much you wish it was.)

You know this is your one chance though, to set things back in balance, to get back where you belong (with Bucky) and maybe do some good along the way.

So you go into the box and you come out. . . Taller. And you see so much more, and feel more and— Even as you’re reeling with the newness the man who gave it all to you is gunned down.

And then, despite the fact that you manage to run down Erskine’s murderer, they tell you that they don’t want you. One “Super Soldier” isn’t enough.

You have to face the fact that Bucky is going to die in a ditch in Europe while you get to live safe and protected as a chorus girl or a lab rat.

* * *

They don’t let Steve in to see him.

They’re “deprogramming” him whatever that’s supposed to mean, and they’re afraid Steve won’t be safe until it’s done. They’re afraid Steve might interfere with the process. They’re just afraid.

Steve shows up everyday anyway, to ask, demand, and cajole.

It takes weeks.

When Steve is finally allowed into the cell, because it is a cell they have him in, Bucky starts like he expects abuse, reaching for weapons he doesn’t have with his single arm. Single arm because the metal one he had has been removed, and Steve can’t tell if what little is under the pinned up sleeve is flesh or whatever socket the arm is supposed to plug into.

It seems so wrong. Steve almost walks right back out and starts _hurting people_ until they _fix this_.

But then Bucky recognizes him. He comes sprinting unevenly across the room to hug Steve with his one arm. Bucky is pressing his face into Steve’s neck and sometimes Steve can make out words between the sobs.

“Thought you were dead—Thought I had killed you—God, Stevie I didn’t wanna. . . .”

And Steve can’t do anything but stand there and hold Bucky while he cries out seventy years of horror into Steve’s neck, feeling a little guilty because the only time Bucky clings like this—like Steve wants to cling to him all the time—is when he’s to hurt or traumatized to know better. Steve stays with Bucky as long as he can, and he pretends to ignore the way Bucky flinches when the intercom comes on to tell him to leave.

Steve draws on self control he didn’t know he had to avoid doing anyone harm on the way to Coulson’s office.

When Steve gets there he barges right in. There’s someone important-looking in a meeting with Coulson. They take one look at Steve’s face and scurry away.

Steve informs Coulson of the conditions Bucky is being kept in, and what Bucky’s reactions tell him, and Steve demands that these things be fixed before he does to new S.H.I.E.L.D. what he did to it’s predecessor. Coulson seems to take it very calmly and let’s him run off all the steam he’s built up.

Then he asks Steve very politely to “Please, wait outside a moment.”

Steve waits outside.

Coulson comes out of his office with a terse “Follow me.” and Steve falls in because somehow Coulson can go from “Fussy Bureaucrat” to “Absolute Commander” in a blink.

* * *

You are excited when the show finally heads off to Europe, (maybe you’ll get to see—) maybe you’ll finally get a chance to prove yourself.

The show goes horribly, and you resign yourself to however months of this. . . .

Then Peggy shows up and suddenly it’s not so bad. You’re taken completely off guard by how much you like her, not that you never appreciated dames before, but none of them were Peggy.

(Or maybe they were all out shined by—)

Then Peggy tells you that those men were what was left of—

—Bucky is—

No.

(This isn’t happening and there’s no way Bucky is already dead and you are alone and—)

You’re gonna find him. You’re gonna bring him back.

To your everlasting surprise, Peggy helps.

* * *

Coulson retraces Steve’s steps, except they don’t wind up at the cell, they take a last second turn and wind up at an infirmary. Bucky is there looking lost and disconnected as the arm is fitted back on to his shoulder, and a team of agents keep him under guard.

Some last connection is made because all the metal plates ripple and the shoulder end seems to grip down, and Bucky’s eyes roll up in his head and his right hand grips the table he’s on so hard the metal bends.

And then he’s staring down at the arm with this confused expression as he flexes it, like he never saw it before, or maybe never expected to see it again. The med tech moves next to him and Bucky starts and pushes the man across the room. All the guns come up.

Steve pushes through the men, Bucky starts, then his eyes fix on Steve.

“Steve.” he says.

“Yeah, Buck.” Steve says.

“Rogers, Steven G., Captain.” Bucky recites, “Alias: Captain America. Level 6 Target. Mission Status: Failed.” He looks away and his whole body shakes, waiting.

“No.” Steve says, “No, Buck, you did exactly what you were supposed to do: you saved me.”

“I—The Asset is reassigned?” Bucky says, his eyes dart to Steve, then down.

“Yes, Bucky,” Steve says.

Bucky licks his lips, eyes going distant again, “The Asset is not—The Asset is not assigned a name.”

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve says again, “You were a Sergeant in the 107th. You’re my best friend.” _and I love you_.

Bucky’s jaw works, “Steve.” A tear rolls down his face as he forces himself to look at Steve, “Stevie, I wanna go home.”

Steve wants to say, _Yes_ , and spirit him away, but he doesn’t want to make promises he can’t keep. There’s a touch on his arm and Steve jumps but it’s only Coulson: he nods.

“Then I’m going to take you home, Buck.” Steve says.

But Bucky’s attention is on Coulson now, even if he won’t look at Coulson directly.

“There will be conditions.” Coulson says. Bucky shrinks on himself, but nods, “I can’t allow you to go with Steve if I can’t be sure that you won’t hurt yourself or others. You will have appointments with various therapists. You will keep these appointments, and consider what the therapists have to say. So long as you remain in therapy, and remain non-violent, you will remain in Steve’s custody, do you understand?”

“I—I’ll do whatever you want.” Bucky says, staring holes through Coulson’s shoes.

Coulson gives Steve an apologetic look, “You should get him ready to go, I’ll start the paperwork.”

* * *

You push whatever might be going on with Peggy and Howard out of your mind. It doesn’t matter anyway.

You have to save Bucky. (Because Bucky is still alive, there’s no way he’s not, Bucky doesn’t get to die first.)

And then you are jumping from a plane under fire.

And then you are infiltrating a German base.

And then you are rescuing all the prisoners except one. But they know where to find him, so it’s fine. (No one ever comes back from there. . . ) You find Bucky out of his mind on a lab table, but Bucky recognizes you, and you’re going to get Bucky out.

(what happened to you?)

(did it hurt?)

(is it permanent?)

Then Schmidt is there, and things get weird. (you don’t have one of those, do you?)

Then the whole place is coming down, and you have to get Bucky out. You push him on to the beam, and it’s fine when the beam falls because Bucky is fine. You were always going to die. Bucky has to get out.

Except he won’t. “Not without You!”

So you try, because you have to, and there’s a moment when you’re suspended in midair over a pit of fire, with Bucky on the other side waiting for you and you think it.

_Well, looks like this is the end of the line._

* * *

Bucky is quiet on the way home, and quiet once they get there. Steve gets Bucky settled into the spare bedroom (except he doesn’t have much to settle beyond a few S.H.I.E.L.D. issue T-shirts and Sweats) and gives him the tour: the hybrid living room/kitchen, the bathroom, Steve’s room at the end of the hall.

Steve makes it clear to Bucky that he can use any of the facilities any time. Bucky nods and, watching Steve the whole time like he might object, Bucky grabs one of the kitchen chairs and drags it into a corner of the great room positions it so he can see all the points of entry in the room and slumps into it.

It takes Steve a moment to realize Bucky means to sleep like that, but when he does he leads Bucky back to the bedroom, and encourages him to use the bed. Bucky looks at Steve and the bed with equal suspicion before laying down. Steve waits until Bucky falls asleep before he goes and locks himself in his bedroom.

He has a feeling like an asthma attack, he’s bringing in air but it’s not doing him any good. It takes Steve a while to realize he’s crying.

* * *

Bucky is unusually quiet on the way back to base.

You figure he has plenty of reason to be, but you’re a little worried about how Bucky doesn’t sleep until he’s about to fall over, and even then it’s a broken restless sleep.

But then nobody is sleeping much, or eating. You hafta stay on the move, don’t have many supplies.

You catch this look on Bucky’s face though, when Bucky thinks you ain’t looking. It’s a world of dark, and it cuts you to the core.

* * *

Steve wakes up starving and everything is dark. He can feel the tear tracks dried to his face and he feels the drag of all the grief in his limbs, heavier than any mere physical pain.

(It was easier to deal with when it was his body that hurt. People could see how broken he was. Now they see perfection, but he’s still riddled with cracks.)

Steve gets up. He’s going to wash his face and get some food, and make sure Bucky eats if he hasn’t already.

But Steve opens his bedroom door and trips over something. ‘Something’ grabs him and there is a quick and furious grapple before ‘Something’ has a knife to his throat.

Steve stares into Bucky’s wide eyes from inches away.

“Jesus, Stevie, what the Fuck just happened?” he whispers as if someone might hear.

“I don’t know, but my guess is that you fell asleep outside my door and then I tripped over you.” Steve whispers back.

“Why the hell would you do that?” Bucky whispers intensely while he scans the dark over Steve’s head.

“I think that’s my line.” Steve says dryly, and Bucky looks back at him narrow eyed.

“Guard positions.” Bucky says.

“What?”

“If the Asset was allowed to sleep on mission it was in a handful of guard positions.” Bucky explains.

“You’re not on mission.” Steve says.

“If I’m out of the freezer I’m on mission.” Bucky says, “That’s been my life for. . . .However much of the last seventy years I was awake for.”

“Is this a—a programing thing?” Steve asks hesitantly, not sure if it’s allowed.

“Maybe? It definitely was, but it might also be a habit thing?” Bucky says seriously, face scrunched in thought.

Steve decides to table this discussion because he’s still starving and he feel ridiculous whispering in the dark on his hall floor. “Can I get up now?” he asks.

Bucky blinks, and pulls the knife back, and then his weight rolls back too. The hand Bucky offers is the left one, reflecting brightly in the half-dark. Steve grabs it and Bucky pulls him up with a mechanical whir.

“I’m gonna hit the head,” Steve says, “meet me in the kitchen?”

Bucky nods, and slips by Steve. Steve makes his way to the bathroom and flicks on the light. He looks like he had cried himself to sleep, coincidently enough. Steve manages to scrub most of the evidence off his face. He wonders how well Bucky can see in the dark, if he already knows.

Steve takes as long as he dares to pull himself together. Then he heads out.

The kitchen is all alight and Bucky is at the table with his head in his hands, there’s a knife on the table and it’s from the kitchen block.

“So, how did you wind up at my door?” Steve asks as he makes his way around to the fridge.

“Woke up, couldn’t relax, thought if I could get armed. . . .” Bucky glares at the knife like it personally offended him, “Once I was up I couldn’t go back to the bed though. You said I should lay down so I moved to a secondary position. . . .” Bucky shrugs, “How much trouble am I in?”

“What?” Steve says, “This was just a misunderstanding. You’re not in trouble.” Steve pulls out some cold cuts for a sandwich.

“Steve, I had a fucking knife to your throat. Your man in a suit said there are conditions,” Bucky swallows hard, “Conditions to my staying with you.”

“That’s not his call to make,” Steve says, but Bucky doesn’t look convinced, “Look, we’re a pair of super soldiers, do you really think he can separate us if we don’t let him?”

“But you will let him take me back,” Bucky says, “If I fall too out of line.”

“If it get’s bad enough that we can’t trust you out here, I go in with you.” Steve says, “I’m not going to leave you alone with them again.”

Bucky licks his lips, “I can’t do that to you, Stevie.” he says.

“Then I suggest you keep it together,” Steve says, “‘cause I’m in this with you, to the end of the line.”

“Said that before.” Bucky says, “When I was killing you.”

“Yeah, then you stopped.” Steve says, because that’s all that needs to be said. “Hey, do you want a sandwich?”

Bucky gives Steve that familiar look, like he wants to beat the stupid outta him, then it collapses into the same old amused exasperation. “Sure so long as you’re making.”

“And maybe next time stick to your bed, so I don’t break my neck tripping over you.” Steve adds.

* * *

Everything is a whirlwind after you get back to camp. Bucky and the rest are dragged into the infirmary and you are dragged into debrief. You’re surprised how much you remember when the front of your brain was entirely focused on (Where is) Bucky.

When Colonel Philips asks you if you’re ready to wipe Hydra off the map you don’t have to think about it, you were planning to run them into the ground anyway. And like you tell the Colonel, you think you know some guys who would like to help.

“Of course they’re gonna follow you, they’re a bunch of idiots.” Bucky says, “Question ain’t if they’re gonna come, but whether you really want them to.” Bucky proves to be right, as usual. (On both accounts. You wind up wondering why, when you practically had the pick of the army, you went and rounded up these knuckleheads.)

And of course Bucky says he’s coming too; you feel guilty and relieved to hear him say so, but then there was never any chance Bucky would let you face off Hydra alone, anymore than he ever let you face off any bully alone.

Buck is ribbin’ you about the stupid chorus outfit when Peggy comes in. You see the look on his face and think, _oh, no, here we go again_.

But Peggy is barely even glances at Bucky and you feel kind of light headed. You have no idea what you say (did you even manage to say anything?) and then Bucky is complaining about how he’s just as invisible as you used to be.

As if Bucky is ever invisible when you are in the room. Or wait, was he just now? When you and Peggy. . . ? But. . . shit. Why was this so complicated? _Bucky doesn’t even care about you like that._

Later when you’re helping a slightly drunk Bucky back to your tent, Bucky says, “You really like her don’t you. . .Agent Carter.”

“Yeah, Buck, I’m thinking I do,” you say.

“It’s good.” Bucky says, “Always hoped you’d find yourself a good girl, Stevie. Want you to be happy.”

“I guess I’ve always had a thing for classy brunettes,” you say. Bucky gives you a skeptical look, like he’s wondering if he’s included in that. Of course he is. Bucky always seemed classy to you, even when everyone else saw a scruffy 11 year old. It was an attitude thing.

Bucky pulls you into a hug, “You know I love you, right? Carter better take good care’a you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, jerk.” you mutter, “C’mon let’s get you to bed, I think you had a bit much.”

“Aw, I ain’t that drunk, Stevie.” Bucky says, but allows himself to be dragged off.

* * *

Coulson sends Steve an email with a list of therapists, and a note:

_Captain Rogers,_

_Regarding Sgt. Barnes’ mandated therapy:_

_I’d like to see Sgt. Barnes attending sessions with a Deprogrammer, a Traumatic Brain Injury Specialist, and a Post-Traumatic Stress Specialist. These specialities occasionally overlap, so they won’t necessarily have to be three different people. The accompanying list contains the top specialists in the above fields, that have passed security checks and who have agreed to take on ‘special cases’ for S.H.I.E.L.D._

_Go over the list with Sgt. Barnes: so long as all the specialities are covered he can choose whoever he feels comfortable with. At your or Sgt. Barnes’ request we can send anyone on this list his jacket, if you, or he, feels that would aid the process of his recovery._

_And I am, of course, at your disposal should you need anything else._

_Yours,_

 

_Philip Coulson_

_Director of S.H.I.E.L.D._

“Hey, Buck!” Steve calls, and Bucky comes running out of his bedroom, where, from the sound of things, he had apparently been moving furniture.

“Where’s the fire?” he asks, which at least means he hasn’t. . .whatever he does.

“Got an e-mail from Director Coulson about your therapy,” Steve says, “If your busy we can put it off. . . .”

“No.” Bucky says and comes to sit next to Steve on the couch. Steve passes him the computer. He reads the note.

“Do you actually believe that? He’s at your disposal and shit?” Bucky asks.

“Phil is a good man,” Steve says, “As soon as I told him what was going on with you he fixed it. I’ve fought with him before, he died trying to save the world—it didn’t take obviously, but I’ve never doubted his dedication to what S.H.I.E.L.D. was supposed to be, a good, protective force in the world.”

Bucky looks skeptical. “I had a man in a suit too. He told me things. Sometimes I believed him.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about Phil,” Steve says again, “But I may have threatened to dismantle his organization if he does wrong by you again.”

“You got that kinda pull?” Bucky asks.

“I did it once.” Steve says, “If I hafta, I’ll do it again.”

“And what if you did that and I was just broke,” Bucky says,”What if you brought down the world and all for a piece of shit looney?”

“Bucky, you’re not—“ Steve starts, then backtracks, “One of the things I’ve been learning, is, is people are a lot less willing to call people diseased or broken. They mostly accept that people are all a little fucked up, and sometimes they need help. And sometimes people are different, and don’t need help. But things are a lot less. . . . prescriptive? You don’t need to fit some fantasy box of ‘normal’, is what I’m trying to say.”

“So you’ll still love me if I’m fucked up?” Bucky says with a twisted smile.

“I still loved you when you didn’t even know my name,” Steve says. Bucky’s eyes snap to Steve, surprised to hear him take the half-joke so seriously.

“All these doctors are supposed to do, is help you, help you deal with. . . everything you’ve been through. That’s the TBI and PTSD parts, and Deprogramming has to do with whatever triggers Hydra might have left in your head, so it’s safe for you, and whoever you’re around.” Steve says, drawing on the conversation he and Sam had.

Bucky licks his lips, “They always say they’re gonna help, Stevie.” he says low.

“This time they’re gonna help or you don’t have to go anymore.” Steve says, “If one of these doctors feel iffy to you, we’ll find someone that doesn’t. Whatever you need.”

“Stevie.” Bucky says, “I—I’m afraid,” his breathing is getting a little ragged, “I’m afraid this isn’t real, and—“ Bucky’s eyes fixed on the T.V. across the couch “He looked like you when he was younger. He came to me and he told me things would be better. He said we were gonna save the world together, one more time. Stevie, I—I can’t do it again. If this is ano—I can’t.”

“Hey, no Bucky.” Steve says as he reaches out to Bucky, and he tries not to be hurt when Bucky flinches (but it does hurt) “Hey, look at me okay? You can take my hand if you want,” Steve sets his hand on the couch between him and Bucky, Bucky doesn’t take it but he does try to meet Steve’s eyes, “Okay, try to focus on the moment, where are we?” Steve hopes to hell he can get this right.

“It’s-It’s your apartment, the couch.” Bucky says by rote, his pupils are blown, unfocused.

“Right. Try to ground yourself in something that you can touch right now. What’s in your lap?”

“Your laptop. I was reading the Suit’s email.” he touches it.

“And what does the laptop feel like?”

“It’s hot, you been running it too long.”

“Does it feel real?”

“I—I think.” Bucky says, “Yeah? It makes sense?”

“Okay, see, you’re really here, Buck.” Steve says.

“But—“ Bucky pauses, “But what if you aren’t who I think you are?”

And it rips Steve open, because Bucky should never have to doubt that. Bucky should know Steve like Steve knows him. This shouldn’t be so complicated.

“You, you wanna try taking my hand now?” Steve asks, and Bucky slowly puts his hand on his, “Okay, does that feel real?”

“Yeah,” Bucky concedes.

“Okay, I’m gonna say something I bet no one else knows. Because it wasn’t something people talked about.” Steve says, “It was when we were eleven, and you got some moonshine.”

“Oh, no Stevie, I believe you.” Bucky says, “You don’t hafta.”

“And we got drunk out of our stupid minds—“ Steve says. “No really, Stevie, they probably got this place bugged.” Bucky says, almost panicking again, but it was panic centered on the present, at least.

“No one cares anymore, Buck.” Steve says, “They ain’t gonna arrest me because I kissed you once when we were drunk.”

“Shit.” Bucky whispers, and freezes like he expects the gay police to fall out of the sky on the two of them.

(Somewhere nearby, at the safe house set up as a receiving station for Captain America’s bugs, one S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent has sprayed his soda across the room in the most epic spit take. “Did he just—?” one of his partners say. “You both owe me twenty,” the other says.)

In Steve’s apartment, nothing happens.

“So are we okay?” Steve asks.

“I’m pretty sure I never told anybody that,” Bucky says.

“So?”

“So let’s pick some fucking therapists so the Suit will leave us alone.” Bucky says.

* * *

After the fiasco with Private Lorraine, (and the thing after, with Peggy shooting at him) you figure you have to come clean.

Not about Private Lorraine, you still weren’t sure how that happened. You did everything but tell the dame to get lost outright, and it wasn’t your fault she stuck her tongue down your throat.

But Peggy wasn’t the only person in your life, and she deserved to know that. (right?)

So you find a moment to talk to her alone.

“What exactly do you want, Captain?” she says, sounding—how do they say it? A Bit Cross.

“I wanted to talk to you a minute is all.” you say, “I understand why you were upset earlier.”

“Well, that’s nice.” she says.

“Thing is, Private Lorraine kissed me, I didn’t want it, I didn’t ask for it, and I woulda been pissed even if you hadn’t seen, ‘cause it was just wrong.” you say.

“Is that so?” Peggy says still looking a bit stubborn.

“In fact it is, ma’am.” you say, “but aside from that there are things I haven’t been honest about.”

“Oh?” she says.

“Yes.” you, pause and shuffle a bit, “I’m really starting to like you Peggy.” you say softly.

“Well, that’s good to know.” She says.

“But there is someone else.” you say, “For. . .for a number of reasons we’re never gonna be together. I mean, me and the other person.”

“Why would that be?” Peggy asks with a little frown mark between her eyes.

“Well, for one thing,” you say, “He doesn’t care for fellas.”

“Oh.” Peggy says, “Oh.”

“It’s not like. . . I mean I really do like you, I like both.” you say, and resolve to kick yourself later.

“Both,” Peggy says, almost to herself, “I honestly never thought of that.” She seems lost in thought another moment, then says, “So you’re saying that you’re falling in love with me, but I’ll never be first in your heart.”

You wince, “I—I wouldn’t say that, but I suppose, whether you’re first or not, you’ll never be alone.”

“That’s—That’s almost sweet.” Peggy says, “You’ve given me much to think about. Thank you for your honesty, Steven.” It seems like she will just leave, then she comes back and presses a light kiss into the corner of your mouth.

* * *

Bucky said 'let’s pick some therapists', but shorty after he started scanning through the list he went all blank, and then moved the laptop over to the kitchen table.

There were short bursts of typing followed by intense reading. Steve tries not to be upset. It’s better that Bucky takes an interest in these things anyway, isn’t it? Steve goes and looks over Bucky’s shoulder; he doesn’t seem to mind. He has half a dozen tabs open about various therapies that he’s bouncing between, as well as a tab open on a specific doctor (even as you watch, he closes one and googles another) there’s three word documents open, BLACKLIST, SHORT LIST, and THERAPEUTIC GOALS.

The blacklist consists of a few names off of Coulson’s own list, the short list currently had one name, the therapeutic goals was the most fleshed out:

  * Meet all conditions to remain with Steve (Currently—control violent outbursts, meet mandatory therapy requirements.)
  * Eliminate all triggers that may allow HYDRA/Others to reclaim the Asset/James B. Barnes.
  * Find/Create adequate coping mechanisms to deal with panic/flashbacks.
  * Rebuild Agency/take back control of my fuckin life.
  * stop feeling scared/like this is all another HYDRA trick
  * BE CLEARED FOR DUTY/ALLOWED TO SUPPORT STEVE IN THE FIELD. I know that ones a lot to ask, but if you think I’m letting Stevie go out with only shady-ass agents for backup the rest of his life, me and you will be having words.



Bucky is working through the list at a rate that is dizzying even for Steve. When he finishes he has four names on his short list, a handful that hadn’t made a list and a third of Coulson’s list is on the blacklist.

Bucky begins drafting an e-mail off of Steve’s account:

_TO:                 Director P. Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D._

_FROM:             The Asset/James B. Barnes_

_RE:                  Mandatory Therapy, and your fucked security._

_Attachments:  Blacklist_

 

_Director,_

_The Asset has compiled a list of Therapists that meet your Requirements. The TBI/PTSD team of Dr. Harrolds and Dr. Matiss, are preferred. Your Deprogrammers are entirely inadequate, and often untrustworthy (see attached blacklist), but the Asset is wiling to settle for Dr. Marks. Much preferred would be Dr. Sara Sondheim, if you can clear her and convince her to take this “Special Case”._

_You are authorized to send all of these doctors a limited jacket on the Asset, summarizing my history and current status, upon request. This should be accompanied by the following Therapeutic goals:_

_(Bucky copy/pastes his goals)_

_Finally, I find it extremely disappointing, but not terribly surprising, that I have had contact with a large number of your suggested “deprogrammers” and other specialists, usually not directly in conjunction with HYDRA, but in conjunction with HYDRA allies and sympathizers (for specific organizations, see attached blacklist). I suggest you strike them all from your list immediately._

_Signed,_

 

_James B., the Asset_

“What do you think?” Bucky asks sounding dangerously smug as he attached his blacklist.

“Comes off a little confrontational.” Steve says.

“Funny thing, I’m a bit angry. Maybe the therapy will help me work through that.” Bucky says, and defiantly hits send.

It takes about twenty minutes for them to get a return e-mail. Bucky doesn’t wait but goes back to whatever he was doing in his bedroom. Steve half types a hand full of apologies for Bucky’s attitude, but keeps erasing them because on some level he feels Bucky is justified.

Finally, the Email arrives and Steve calls Bucky back.

_TO:                  James B. Barnes/the Asset, c/o Captain Rogers_

_FROM:             Director Philip Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D._

_RE:                  Security Issues, Mandatory Therapy_

_Attachments:  Preliminary Therapy Schedule_

 

_Asset Barnes,_

_I would like to personally thank you for your intelligence, re: the security issues. The names you forwarded have indeed been stricken from our trusted list and we will be launching investigations in to them, and the organizations they are affiliated with. If you have anymore intelligence you are able and willing to share, on this or any other matter, we will always be glad to receive it._

_Re: Your Therapy, we have attached a schedule. So far only the appointments with Dr. Harrolds and Dr. Matiss are firm. We have Dr. Marks scheduled for later this week but that may change pending our negotiations with Dr. Sondheim. We hope she will prove amenable to your case now that we have permission to share more information with her._

_Again, I am entirely at your disposal should you need anything._

_Yours,_

 

_Philip Coulson_

_Director of S.H.I.E.L.D._

Bucky stared at the message for what seemed like a long time. Hell, the way he was going through webpages earlier, he probably read it a couple dozen times by now. Then he shook himself loose and opened the attachment.

“First appointment is tomorrow, do we have means to get there?” He asks.

“We could take my bike, or we could get a ride from someone, unless you want to try a train. . . ?” Steve says.

“A car is best.” Bucky says, “I don’t need added stress. . . .”

“Yeah, okay, we’ll work it out.” Steve says.

* * *

Peggy stops by your tent the morning you’re going to move out. “May I come in gentlemen?”

Bucky waggles his eyebrows at you, “Sure can!” he calls. You would throw something at his head, but Peggy is already ducking into the tent.

“Captain,” she says, then with a glint in her eye, “Sergeant.” She cocks her head a you, “I was hoping we could continue the conversation we had the other night.”

“Well, maybe I should be going then.” Bucky says with a smirk.

“Unless, I’m sorely mistaken,” Peggy says, “You would regret that, Sergeant Barnes.” but she was looking at you when she said it. You feel your face heat but you nod anyway.

“Well as you like then.” she says, and then she kisses you. Like Private Lorraine tried too, only better. When she pulls away it leaves you kinda stunned. Over her shoulder you can see Bucky, happy and a little embarrassed, a few feet away.

And then Peggy turns to Bucky.

“I think the Captain wanted you to have this, Sergeant.” she says, then pulls him into a kiss too. You need to sit. You never— He—She—They— _together_ , Christ.

They pull apart, and Bucky looks at Peggy like he is almost as dazed as Steve was.

“Any dame who kisses me like that can call me James.” he says a little breathless.

“Well, then, James,” Peggy says, “I expect you to bring our Captain back safe so we can finish this conversation.”

“Yes ma’am” Bucky says, giving you wide eyes after she turns her back.

“Captain,” She says to you.

“Agent Carter,” you say, as composed as you can manage.

“I’ll be waiting.” She says, and turns toward the tent flap. She pauses a moment to check her lipstick in a compact, before swanning out neat as you please.

“Jesus, Stevie, what the hell did you say to her?” Bucky asks.

“Just the truth,” You say. But you know that ain’t gonna stand, so you start to explain. . . .

* * *

Coulson provides them with a car. Steve is pretty sure Bucky knows where it’s from and doesn’t approve.

Then again he’s slid into that blank place again, where Steve can’t follow. He was sleeping on the floor again this morning, by the door of the apartment this time, so the only one tripping on him would be someone breaking in, which. . .is better, Steve thinks.

It makes him nervous, and it’s vaguely exhausting, the way Bucky seems to fail at being human most of the time, let alone himself. And then Steve feels guilty for being stressed by it, because Bucky is his best friend who has been through hell, and Steve can’t even deal with the aftermath.

Steve drops Bucky off at the office, and then sits in the waiting room. He pokes at the magazines. He takes his pad out and sketch, but all that will come off his pencil is chaos.

It feels like static in his head.

Steve feels like such a hypocrite bringing Bucky here when every time Sam suggests that he should talk to someone he just nods and smiles and shrugs it off.

By the end of the hour session Steve wants to climb the walls.

Bucky comes out with a hand full of pamphlets and things. He’s still not talking. As soon as they get home he locks himself in his bedroom.

Steve knocks on the door, “I’m going to go out, do some shopping. I’ll bring back food.”

There’s a rustle near the floor. Steve looks down, there’s a paper being pushed under the door. It was a list, headed by ~~Recommended Materials~~ scribbled out roughly in favor of  Materials Reacquisition? in a blocky hand entirely unlike Bucky’s neat script. It consists mostly of notebooks and pencils and the like.

“Yeah, I can grab these for you.” Steve says.

There’s no answer.

Steve grabs a bag, and heads out.

* * *

It’s a bit fucked up, but what follows is possibly the happiest time in your life.

Physically, you feel good. You’re with Bucky, and that strange tension that you always felt has melted into something less ugly. You (both) have Peggy whenever you’re on base (and sometimes when you’re not, and she is amazing and frightening in the field). You’re doing good things, saving the world.

Yes, war is ugly. War is awful. It also happens to be the backdrop of everything you ever wanted.

You think maybe, someday, you’ll be able to leave the war behind and still have all the good parts, but for now this is better than you’d ever expected to have.

So, of course, it’s not meant to last.

“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone on Coney Island?” “This isn’t payback for that, is it?”

And then the train.

And then he’s gone.

Bucky’s gone and this time there’s no bringing him back.

* * *

Since Bucky started therapy his time is split between mysterious happenings in his room (Steve has come to the conclusion that it’s some kind of intense workout routine) and sitting on the couch filling notebooks. Sometimes he talks, sometimes he doesn’t.

From his talkative moods Steve has learned far more about TBI and PTSD then even Sam had been able to impress upon him; occasionally, Bucky has Steve read passages from his ‘memory book’ to help him confirm something, or match a description with a name.

“I shouldn’t be able to do this, you know,” he’d say, “pull all this shit back together. Usually once the brain is shot—they were literally shocking this shit outta me—usually the brain can’t recover like that.”

Steve want’s to say, _guess you were lucky_ , but at the same time he can’t force that abomination passed his lips.

"It’s fucking ironic how Zola keeps saving my life.” Bucky says, almost choking on the name, “But it’s usually from himself.”

“Hey, out of the two of you, you’re the one who survived,” Steve points out.

“‘Every great man hopes that his greatest works will out live him.’” Bucky says, “He said that to me, last time I saw him, when he thought he was dying.”

“Fuck that,” Steve says, “You can’t let him steal your victories. You survived. You broke your programing, and saved me. You kept trying to come home even when your brain was a mess.”

“More of a mess,” Bucky reminds him, “And I wouldn’t be here to do that, if it weren’t for—“

“So, just goes to show how stupid he was,” Steve says, “Giving that kind of resilience to an enemy. He gave you exactly what you needed to beat him, and now you have.”

Bucky shakes his head, but he’s smiling again, “You are such a fucking propaganda poster, Rogers.”

Steve shrugs, “Once a chorus girl. . . .”

* * *

Peggy drags you out of it.

You don’t know what you would have done without Peggy. At least she understands, it wasn’t just your best friend you lost. Bucky was never “just” anything to you, and for the longest time Bucky was everything.

It helps to have someone who knows that, and maybe loved him a little too. She keeps you together while you’re planning the Op, helps get you through that last mission.

You want to go back to her. God, you want to go home, have that dance. At the same time. . . .

_(—The end of the line)_

Well, you need to bring the plane down anyway.

—and the water is coming up fast.

_(Eight o’clock sharp don’t be late—)_

_(—Where are we going?—)_

* * *

Sam calls Steve, “Hey man, just making sure your ass is still alive, I haven’t heard from you in like, a month.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Steve says, and ignores Bucky’s ironic brow.

“Look, I know you’ve been focused on your boy, but this is a friendly reminder that you need to do things for yourself too.” Sam says, “Before you burn out, and you will. That’s why I’m kidnapping you for the weekend.”

“What.” Steve says, “I can’t—“

“No. This is happening.” Sam says, “Natasha is involved, there’s no escape. Pack a bag, we’ll be there in 20.” Sam hangs up. You stare at your phone.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asks.

“My friends decided I need some me-time and are conspiring to whisk me away for the weekend.” Steve says, hoping he doesn’t sound as confused as he feels.

“Good.” Bucky says, “Go have fun.”

“What—“

“C’mon, I can go a few days without your sad face floating around.” Bucky says, he puts down his notebook and grabs Steve’s phone right out of his hand.

“I’m—I don’t—Sad face?—“ Steve says as Bucky drags him towards his bedroom, fiddling with the phone.

“Hey, is this Steve’s friend?” Bucky says into Steve’s phone, “Sam? Nice ta meetcha, call me James. So what’s this Punk gonna need for your mystery tour then?” And he starts packing a bag. Steve resigns himself to having his life managed by his friends, but refuses to be happy about it.

Bucky is bustling him back towards the living room with his bag when there’s a knock on the door, which immediately opens, because Natasha has a thing about locks. Or maybe it’s just Steve’s lock.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not legal—“ Sam says, Natasha mutters something dismissive in Russian. Bucky stiffens, then pushes in front of Steve, handing off the bag. He stops at the end of the hall, and Steve can’t really read his posture.

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t think that through.” Natasha says.

“You think everything through,” Bucky says, “It’s one of your gifts.” he moves out into the living room.

“Are you going to kill me?” Natasha asks.

“No.” Bucky sounded a little offended that she’d ask, “Are you gonna kill me?” Steve creeps up on the corner, afraid to upset. . . .whatever the hell is going on.

“Of course not,” Natasha says, and Steve can hear the eye roll, “I was going to offer to keep an eye on you for Steve, assuming you’re okay with that.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Bucky asks. Steve can finally see what’s going on: Bucky and Natasha are on either side of the coffee table, not quite fight-ready, and Sam is hovering by the door like he might bolt.

“Um, voice of reason here, pointing out that normal people don’t greet each other with ‘Are you going to kill me?’” Sam says, “And that might be the source of uncertainty in your relationship.”

“We aren’t normal people,” Natasha and Bucky say.

“Well, that much is clear.” Sam says, he catches Steve’s eye and gives him a pleading look.

“Aren’t you the guy with the wings? Are you sure you should be throwing stones?” Bucky says.

“I was the guy with the wings, until some asshole with a metal arm tore them up.” Sam says, “Also you owe me a car.”

“I’m not very liquid right now,” Bucky says, “How ‘bout I kill someone for you and we call it even?”

“Ha, assassin humor. You two will get along great.” he says, pointing between the two assassins in the room, “Hey, Steve, why don’t we leave these crazy kids to. . .actually, I don’t want to know what they’re gonna get up to. Let’s just—“

“Yeah,” Steve says, giving the assassins in his life a very fishy look as he slips by them. Their blank looks are eerily similar. “Don’t break anything.” he says.

“No promises,” Nat says, as Steve shuts the door behind him.

“That was way more frightening than I expected.” Sam says.

Steve has to agree.

* * *

_(—The Future)_

You wake up and the bed is— _(wrong)_

And the game on the radio is _(wrong)_ old.

The fabric against your skin is _(wrong)_ too soft.

The woman is— _(Wrong)_

And then the armored men are _(Hydra)_ wrong.

So you run.

And you hit the outside and it’s all so _(wrong)_ loud. All the ads move.

Everything is moving too fast.

Then a man appears who could be the devil himself.

“You’ve been asleep for almost seventy years,” he says.

and you believe it, but all you can think is—

_(don’t be late)_

“I had a date.”

* * *

So Steve’s friends conspire to get him out of the house more often, (and as far as he knows, Nat and Bucky are not actually killing anyone while he’s out) and that’s actually nice.

He agree to go on a few missions again too, which actually starts some trouble.

He comes home to Bucky arguing over the phone.

“—Actually, you don’t get to dictate the course of my treatment.”

“—Dr. Sondheim agrees with me: we could rip it all out, but I don’t want to deal with that degree of mind-fuckery again and there's no reason to since the Asset has proven to be completely stable so—“

“All the recall triggers have been eliminated, everything else is mine. You keep delaying this shit, I’m going to start following him out anyway. You need to ask yourself: Do you want a reluctant ally or a rogue Asset?”

“Yes, I get that there are fuckin rules, Phil, but you need to understand, Steve is my priority and I do not trust your people with him. I don’t care how good you are, you missed people. I miss people and I am literally inhumanly good.”

“Yeah, whatever you need, lets just get this done.”

“Yeah, I’ll be in tomorrow. And thanks.” Bucky hangs up the phone and looks at Steve, “So I gotta go prove my ratings on every weapon known to man, then I’m gonna be going out with you on these stupid missions they keep tossing you.”

“You don’t have to—“ Steve tries to say.

“I want to!” Bucky says, “This is what I do, okay? It’s what I’m fuckin for, watching your back and killin’ shit, and I’m sick of sitting home while you’re throwing yourself in front of bullets.”

There are so many things Steve wants to say about that declaration that they get caught in his throat.

“Look, I told you, if I’m out of the freezer I’m supposed to be on mission.” Bucky says, into the void, “I’ve been sitting around this apartment for months with nothing to do, and I’m about to lose what’s left of my mind, even without you running off without me. It has to stop. I need some work.”

“We can get you work that doesn’t involve shooting people.” Steve says.

“That’s sweet, Stevie, but that’s not what I want.” Bucky says, “Even if you took a job with less bullets and I followed you, I’d miss it. I’m—I’ve been optimized as a weapon, having me do something else would be. . .wasteful, unfulfilling.” Bucky shrugs, “I could probably learn to do anything I want, you know. My ability to assimilate information is through the roof now—my army of shrinks freaked out about it—but all I want to do is keep your ass alive, like always.”

“I don’t need you to keep me alive, Buck.” Steve says, with an age old sense of deja vu.

“Really? ‘Cause you rack up near-death experiences pretty fast when I’m not around, Punk.” Bucky says with the same stubborn look on his face.

“It’s all in your head, Jerk.” Steve says. Except it isn’t really, and part of him is excited to have Bucky at his back again.

“Sure it is, “ Bucky says, giving Steve an incisive look that’s all new.

* * *

You save the world, then you spend the effort to reconnect with it.

You reconnect with Peggy. And then do it again. (and it feels like that part of your life is on repeat, but you don’t want it to stop, because when it does she’ll be gone too.)

You try to reconnect with the past, but pictures on the wall don’t cut it, the past is dead. (like him)

You work with S.H.I.E.L.D. You think it’s probably good work. You trust Nick despite yourself.

Things settle into a holding pattern.

Then someone kills Nick.

And you learn that S.H.I.E.L.D. was Hydra all along.

Then the bridge.

And Nick isn’t dead after all. (But he won’t stop you from doing what needs to be done)

Then you’re standing across a cat walk from your best friend. (and first love)

He looks right at you, and he doesn’t know you.

And you know. This is it. The End of the Line.

You just have to do one thing first. And you do, you save the world one more time.

Then you save Bucky, because that will only make two against the thousands of times he saved your ass.

You don’t expect to survive it. (You always knew you were going to die)

You hope that he might.

“You know me.”

(No, I DON’T)

“Bucky. You’ve known me your whole life”

(NO)

“You’re name is James Buchanan Barnes.”

(SHUT UP)

“I’m not gonna fight you, you’re my friend.”

(NO)

(You’re my mission)

(You’re)

(My)

(Mission)

“Then finish it, because I’m with you ’til”— _and this is_ —“the end of the line.”

And you see. You see him. Bucky.

And then you’re falling.

—and the water comes up fast.

* * *

And you suppose, maybe it’ll all be alright in the end.

Maybe you can pull the pieces of your life back together. Make something good.

And you try to ignore that little voice in the back of your head.

the one that whispers

_(hope is a trap)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve go to visit Peggy.

They pull up to the facility, and then they take a moment.

Bucky is trying furiously to keep the Asset in a box, because he’s going to need his voice here, but he was also extremely displeased with what he saw of the so-called security here.

“Are you sure about this?” He and Steve say at the same time, then laugh it off.

“I’m going to take that as a ‘no’.” Steve says.

“I’m just worried about upsetting her.” Bucky says.

“I’m more worried she’ll upset you if she’s. . . .You know.” Steve waves vaguely.

“I’m pretty familiar with,” Bucky copies Steve’s wave, “That’s not the problem. It’s just. Me and her were never like the two a you. Not sure she’s gonna want me swannin' back into her life.”

“Aw, it ain’t like that, Buck, she loved you too.” Steve says, “She’ll be happy to know you made it out.”

Bucky nods, but it doesn’t really calm the sick feeling in his stomach, “She never did love me like that, you know,” he finds himself saying again, “I was just something on the side.” maybe that’s what this is: guilt about gettin’ between them again.

“I can’t really speak to it,” Steve says, “but Peggy wouldn’t a had a thing to do with you if she didn’t want to. You two always had all the fun anyway.”

“That’s cause it was fun teasing you.” Bucky says, remembering how he and Peggy would flirt with each other just to get Steve all bothered, “We’d get you involved eventually.”

Seemed indecent, how happy Steve would be, with the war and all, but it was worth it. And it made everything Bucky had gone through a little less heavy too.

“C’mon, we should go.” Steve said, and Bucky followed him out of the car and through the (big, stylish) front door. Bucky hung back while Steve talked to the front desk, and signed them in. He was trying to chase down the thread of anxiety that kept spiking, then ducking away.

They were almost to Peggy’s room when it hit him, and he almost hit the floor.

_(She’s gonna know. She’s gonna know what I did and she’ll hate me hate me hateme.)_

_(Worse, she’ll know who’s been keeping me and she’ll blame herself for all the blood and terror and—)_

“—Breathe with me now, 1-2-3-4, and out 1-2-3-4, everything is fine, Bucky, come back now. . . .” Steve was chanting at him with a steady rhythm that had become annoyingly familiar lately.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Bucky lies, waving him off.

“We don’t have to—“

“It’s rude to keep a lady waiting, Rogers, just give me a damned minute.” Bucky snaps, and immediately regrets it. He takes another breath, “No, really, I just need a minute to take the edge off.”

Steve looks unconvinced, but gives Bucky his space anyway. “I’ll go ahead then, pave the way?”

“Sure, sounds good.” Bucky says, mouth on autopilot while his brain is already jumping through the loops he and the Army of Shrinks programed into it.

_(Location?) (. . . . .) (Safe)_

_(Person?) (. . . . .) (Safe)_

_(Emotional State?) (. . . . .) (Fucking mess, but what else is new?)_

_(Cool the negative self-talk, James.)_

Bucky snorts to himself. And does in fact feel a little better.

And it’s rude to keep a lady waiting.

He finds Peggy’s room and Steve is already in there talking with her, and he’s still wearin’ that smile that was just her smile, back in the day.

Steve sees Bucky by the door and says, “Hey, I brought a friend along this time, look.” and Peggy turns towards James and—

(He knew what to expect, but fuck, time is an evil bastard)

—her whole face lights up. “James!” She says, “I hoped you’d make it by.”

—and the stomach drops out of him. Maybe she’s stuck in the past? But no, Steve’s face gives lie to that hope.

“Steven, James and I are going to need a moment.” she says.

“Of course,” Steve says, and gives her a peck on the cheek. He gives Bucky a pat on the shoulder on the way by, but he leaves.

Bucky thinks there might be another panic attack in his future.

“James, come here.” Peggy says. Bucky finds himself snapping to attention at that tone despite himself, and then he goes and takes the seat Steve left.

Peggy holds a hand out but when he tries to take it with his right she swats it away. He set’s his metal hand around hers, and he knows she can tell even through the glove.

“Oh, James.” She says, “I may be losing my marbles, but I watch the news and I’m not _stupid_.”

“Never thought you were, Ma’am.” Bucky says.

“I knew as soon as I saw you.” She says, “The footage from the bridge, the way you fought with Steve. It was like when you used to spar.”

Bucky just bites his lip.

“I’m so sorry. I should have known.” She says.

“It’s good, better this way.” Bucky says, “If you found out they would have killed you—Howard—“ Bucky’s voice fails.

“And I suppose, now he’ll have one of us to lean on, Our Captain.” Peggy says.

“Yeah, Peg, I’ll keep him safe for you, like old times.” Bucky says. Her hand is tiny and delicate in his, and she seems so small, like a hard gust would steal her away.

“Of course you will, you always did,” she says, “I never realized what a job you had until it was my turn.” her tone turned aggrieved.

“Oh god, he’s a terror.” Bucky says, fighting a smile.

“Turn around for a second and he’s crashing a plane into the arctic.” Peggy says, shaking her head in stern disapproval.

“Charging into a hail of bullets.” Bucky says.

“Leading the attack on the base, alone.” Peggy adds.

“Jumping offa shit with out a chute.” Bucky adds.

“Oh, he doesn’t need a chute, his one-liners will save him.” Peggy says, dry as dust.

Bucky laughs.

“Ah, there he is.” Peggy says, “That’s my James.”

“I’m not that bad, am I?” Steve says, exuding innocence by the door.

Bucky and Peggy exchange a look.

“Worse.” Bucky says.

“Much.” Peggy agrees, then sighs, “Come here, Steve, I want to spend some time with my boys.”

And Steve comes over, and they have a bubble of time to pretend that time didn’t exist.

It isn’t enough, but then it never is.

**Author's Note:**

> The Steve/Peggy/Bucky dynamic:
> 
> So here's the thing, Steve is both Bi and Demisexual here, meaning that he is theoretically attracted to both genders, but really only after he falls in love with the specific person (this is why he his sooo frustrated that his friends keep trying to set him up). He fell in love with Bucky the first time Bucky appeared out of nowhere and saved his ass. I'm thinking Peggy happened about the time she decked whatshisname for calling her Queen Victoria in boot.
> 
> Bucky is unfortunately straight. Unfortunately because he loves the hell outta Steve, and his life would be much easier if that could just be it for him (mostly he doesn't worry about the gay-is-evil bit, because it's Stevie, and clearly Stevie isn't evil). But no, doesn't work. So he dates around, and suspiciously never actually proposes to anyone, and basically has his fun-on-the-side of his Thing With Steve that has nothing to do with sex.
> 
> Peggy kinda trips and falls into the middle of this. She takes Steve's "Both" speech as a (Bi) revelation (no, really? Both? Both is a thing we can have?), but she's already falling in love with Steve who just handed her everything she ever needed to ruin his life if she wanted to. She takes this as sign of trust, and eventually runs with it. She probably never would have looked twice at Bucky (arrogant playboy shit) if Steve didn't love him, but since Steve loves him, and she was going to have him around anyway, why the hell not?
> 
> I think they could have settled into a happy permanent triad, if not for, you know, TRAGEDY AND DOOM.  
> __________
> 
> Oh, look, I have a [tumblr.](http://lostindarkplaces.tumblr.com)


End file.
